


They Would Overcome the World

by Nahara



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-13
Updated: 2011-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nahara/pseuds/Nahara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desperate to regain strength after the devastation to the fleet at the Battle of Vulcan, Starfleet introduces a policy inspired by the Sacred Band of Thebes that requires Captains and their First Officers to be in an intimate relationship. When the policy is repealed after a short time, why do Kirk and Spock find it difficult to break off their relationship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Would Overcome the World

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 lgbtfest on LiveJournal. (The Sacred Band was made up of male couples, the rationale being that lovers could fight more fiercely and cohesively than strangers with no ardent bonds.)

The communication from Starfleet comes on the heels of a planet-side mission that went horribly awry. There had been phaser fire and ducking behind rocky outcrops and plenty of swearing – the latter exclusively from Jim, as Commander Spock was not given to expletives. Despite what McCoy’s rise in volume might indicate, Kirk is fine, just a little ticked off about the whole affair and in need of something stronger than synthehol. Kirk doesn’t rightly know why he’s the object of so much cosmic mischief but he has the headache and bruises to prove it and, in a rare moment of self-pity, he wonders why it has to be _him_.

So, all things considered, Kirk isn’t prepared for Starfleet’s message in the slightest. He watches Admiral Nogura’s face closely, following the movement of the man’s lips and trying to figure out if what he’s hearing truly correlates with the Admiral’s words.

“I’m sorry, but could you repeat that, Admiral?”

“Captain Kirk,” Admiral Nogura says in agitation, “it would be more expedient if you asked your First Officer to be present for this message.”

“Right. Sure.” Kirk turns to his computer and bites out, “Computer, locate Commander Spock.”

 _Commander Spock is on deck five, Lab 4._

“Patch me through.” A pause and then,

“ _Yes, Captain?_ ” That voice, devoid of anything except mild enquiry. Jim shivers involuntarily.

 _His voice cracks, and Jim is able to look inside, see startling new things that no one has ever been privy to before. Just for him. Fingers and heat and –_

“Please report to my quarters immediately, Mr Spock. Kirk out.”

Jim waits, all but twiddling his thumbs as he and the Admiral sit in uncomfortable silence. When his door identifies Spock he nearly jumps up in relief, calling out,

“Enter!”

“You have need of me, Captain?”

“Yes, yes. Commander, Admiral Nogura,” Kirk says, waving at the large image of Nogura’s face. “He uh, has something important to tell us.”

Spock stands to attention, hands firmly clasped at the small of his back. He doesn’t even raise a brow of interest. Kirk frowns and turns his attention away from his First Officer.

“As I was saying,” the Admiral begins, looking intently at both Kirk and Spock. “It is my duty to inform you that the Sacred Band policy has been repealed.”

“Repealed, Admiral?” Spock’s voice is even, measured to emotionless perfection. Kirk doesn’t look at Spock but clenches his jaw, trying to hold back a whole slew of words. Now isn’t the time.

“Yes, Commander. Repealed. I know the both of you, more than any other officers of Starfleet, are aware of just how high-profile this policy has become. Starfleet has received a lot of… unfortunate press regarding the Sacred Band policy since first conception. After a trial period, we are all in agreement that it simply is not working how we initially intended. This policy was created to boost moral, to show a depleted Starfleet as a united front…but it has only served to cause further dissent and confusion amongst our ranks. All Captains and their First Officers are hereby freed of the Band, effective immediately.” Admiral Nogura shakes his head, eyes averted in something close to shame. “We are sorry to have been the cause of such distress.”

“Distress is one word for it,” Kirk bites out.

He’s tired of this shit. In Kirk’s opinion the whole affair has been a farce from the start. The policy had been… misguided at best, woefully negligent at worst. It not only destabilised Starfleet but it wreaked absolute havoc with the personal lives of all involved. Kirk was lucky that he’d not been in a relationship, or, god forbid, married when the law was passed. Spock hadn’t had it so easy.

When the policy had been implemented, the Commander felt he could no longer continue in a romantic relationship with Lieutenant Uhura. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them, and so he had broken it off. There were lots of angry words before Uhura agreed. There may have been some crying, not that Jim ever brings it up. It’s none of his business and if Uhura has trouble being alone in his presence these days, well, it’s hardly her fault. It isn’t Kirk’s fault either, but it’s easier to blame _someone_ and the guy sleeping with your boyfriend usually gets top spot.

Being the Captain and First Officer of Starfleet’s flagship had made everything that much more public once the law was official. Their relationship, working and personal, had been magnified and inspected to an inordinate degree. It wasn’t something that Jim particularly appreciated, not when he’d only just, by the skin of his teeth, managed to convince Spock to join the _Enterprise_ crew. Their relationship had been on tentative footing, but they’d been working through it, finding common ground and mutual respect. Then the Policy had fucked it all to hell.

During one of the multiple media mishaps, he’d actually been asked about Vulcan genitalia and posed questions about what sex with a touch telepath was like. For the sake of Starfleet – and his sanity – Kirk had smiled politely and refused to answer the question with a theatrical wink. When back on the _Enterprise_ , he’d let off some steam by going a couple of rounds with Cupcake in the gym.

“On behalf of Starfleet, I have been asked to extend our deepest regret and our most sincere apologies.”

Kirk snorts and folds his arms over his chest. He’s heard everything now.

“Admiral, if you don’t mind, I wish to clarify. The repeal means that the Captain and I are no longer required by law to remain in a relationship?” For reasons Kirk doesn’t want to examine just then, he finds the question insulting, humiliating even.

“No Commander, it means we are no longer required to have sex. The Sacred Band policy was a law, not a relationship; they can’t repeal what never existed.” Jim knows he’s being cruel, but he’s angry and the words are past his lips before he can sensor himself.

“Captain, I believe it is inappropriate to speak of such personal matters in front of Admiral Nogura.” Spock turns to Jim, and there is something in his demeanour which makes Kirk feel uncomfortable, as though he’s hurt his First Officer’s feelings. It’s so hard to tell with Vulcans. Or maybe it’s a man thing? Whenever a woman of any species was hurt or annoyed by the conduct of one James Tiberius Kirk, there was usually shouting and projectiles aimed at his head.

“But don’t you see?” Kirk replies, voice no longer angry but serious. “The moment they passed the Sacred Band we were given no say in what was and wasn’t a ‘personal matter’. They made us public property, a commodity.”

“Captain Kirk, I humbly – “

Jim cuts off another apology from Admiral Nogura with an exasperated wave of his hand. “I know Admiral and I hear you loud and clear. Just… don’t expect me to accept Starfleet’s apology just yet.”

“Of course, Captain.” Admiral Nogura looks appeased for the time being, if a little sad.

“My query has not been fully addressed,” Spock says into the silence.

“Sure it has,” Jim says in frustration. Why won’t Spock let this lie? “Honestly, we are no longer required by law to have further sexual relations. Relax! It’s over.”

“I understand that Captain, I merely wished to asses the full extent of the repeal, if there are any lasting ramifications. In the absence of the Sacred Band, are we to go back to the former Starfleet guidelines? For instance, has the previous rule on fraternisation between officers been reinstated?” Spock cocks his head to the side, as though thinking through a curious human idiosyncrasy. “I find the idea illogical. To ask us to ignore the last three months, four days and 15 hours would be impossible. What has been done can never be undone.”

“A big ol’ can of worms we got ourselves here,” Jim chips in. The Admiral eyes him before addressing Spock.

“It’s a difficult question to answer at present. Fraternisation rules would, ideally, go to how they were before this whole mess started; but Starfleet concedes that it can’t continue as it had before the Sacred Band was made law, but nor can it go on as it has in the past few months.” Admiral Nogura shakes his head. “We tentatively suggest that, though the law has been repealed, those who were immediately affected by the policy are to be given extensive leeway. Should any of our Captains and their First Officers find that they wish to remain in an um… intimate relationship,” Nogura pierces both men with a calculating look, “then Starfleet will not peruse any disciplinary action.”

“Oh well, that’s big of them.” Kirk laughs. Really, it’s just too fucking funny. His eyes meet Spock’s and his laughter dies on his lips. The look is almost… accusatory. Not that this is the first time Spock has not been impressed with Jim – or likely to be the last – but Jim has come to care deeply what Spock thinks of him.

 _A tongue licking into his mouth and unknown words whispered against his ear. He’s burning, skin against skin, friendship caught afire._

“Thank you, Admiral,” Spock says politely, nodding slightly at the elderly man.

“If either of you have any more questions, please don’t hesitate to comm me.”

They make their polite goodbyes and Nogura’s face disappears and the screen goes to black. Kirk isn’t sure what to say and Spock isn’t volunteering anything. He sighs and rubs a hand over his weary eyes.

“Well, this has been a turn up for the books. I could do with some rest, and I think you could too, Commander.”

“Captain, I think we should –“

“No.”

“You did not let me finish therefore you cannot know what you are saying no to.”

“I _do_ know, so I _can_. You want to talk about Starfleet and the Sacred Band and these last couple of months... together. Am I right?”

“The repeal will affect us in many ways, Captain. I think it only logical to discuss them together as it will affect us together.”

“I agree Commander, I do.”

“Therefore I suggest we –“

“ _But_ we have plenty of time for talking. Just… later, okay?”

“As you wish.” Spock nods faintly, back as straight and stiff as a block of wood. After a pause, in which he makes no move to leave, Spock finally says,

“Dr McCoy has asked me to make sure you are quite well. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that he would prefer to keep you under observation tonight in sickbay.”

Kirk laughs. He’d almost forgotten about the aborted mission earlier and can suddenly feel the bruises along his ribs and the stiffness of his neck. Not that he’ll let on.

“I’m fine. Seriously,” Jim insists, waving Spock away. “Tell him I’ll report to medical before Alpha shift tomorrow and he can poke me with as many hypos as his crooked heart desires. But for now,” Jim flops down on his bed and stares up at the ceiling, “all I need is a good night’s sleep – eight solid hours of oblivion.”

Spock hesitates, moving out of parade rest and for one wild moment Kirk actually thinks he’s going to stay and… but he doesn’t. He simply nods once and leaves Kirk alone in his quarters.

For a while after he’s gone, Kirk remains looking up at the ceiling, trying not to think too hard about what just happened. Eventually he rolls himself off his bunk and heads for his desk. It isn’t like he was lying to Spock exactly, he _is _in serious need of sleep, he just has other responsibilities to deal with first – none of which include talking to Spock about the repeal. Childish? Perhaps. Self preserving? Hell yeah.__

 _“Computer, patch me through to Admiral Pike. Comm authorization code, five-three-foxtrot-tango-eight-two.”_

 _ _Code accepted. Pending…_ the computer is silent for a moment before Admiral Pike’s familiar face appears on screen._

“Hello Jim. Been expecting this call.” He looks calm but somewhat guarded. Kirk isn’t surprised.

“That so?”

“I heard that you and Spock got a comm from Nogura. I requested to do the task myself but was refused.” He jerks his head in irritation before looking at Kirk again, eyes full of sympathy. “I know you must be angry Jim and you have every right to be.”

“I am angry, like seriously pissed actually, but I didn’t comm you to have a chinwag about the shitty decision made by Starfleet. I was more interested in informing you of other shitty things, such as today’s mission.”

“Is that your official diagnosis?” Pike is trying not to smile.

“Near enough. I don’t think the Ubarians liked the Federation’s proposal. I politely explained to them that we could no longer expend so many resources – medical personnel, medical supplies, food and water rations – not considering what’s been happening in the Federation recently, first the relocation of the Vulcan refugees and then the famine on Faine VII. Besides, I read all the reports before beaming down. According to our scientists, Hexon-Ubar is stable enough to start fending for itself – precipitation is back to the global average, soil is once again fertile and mineral-rich, perfect for harvesting crops and the medical personnel have tamped down the spread of Nezian Flu. I showed them a plan detailing the withdrawal of our relief workers. By this time next year we hope they’d be fully functioning on their own.” Jim pauses to roll his eyes. “They uh, didn’t like this plan so much and preferred to turn my peaceful negotiations into an exchange of phaser fire. You know, same old same old.”

“I think you had the right of it: shitty all ‘round.” Pike says with strained patience. “Sounds like they’ve come to rely too heavily on Federation hand-outs.”

“That’s what I thought. A knee jerk reaction after so long with Federation involvement – they’re probably just sacred stupid.” Jim takes up a PADD which details the events that took place on Hexon-Ubar and waves it before the screen. “Sending you my initial report now. I’ll have something more official when this whole affair is put to rest. Any suggestions on how to go about this Admiral?”

“Carefully.”

“Ha. You’re a riot, sir.”

“I’ll talk to the other Admirals about sending the Ubarians a stern warning and see if I can get you another audience with their Prime Leader and Comptroller once they’ve calmed down. We’ll make it clear what we think of their actions towards the Federation’s flagship crew and Captain. In the mean time, hold tight and keep your eyes and ears open. Remember to keep me in the loop.”

Kirk nods and they lapse into silence.

“I’m not sure I can see a way around this, Admiral.” Kirk’s not entirely sure he’s talking about the Ubarians anymore.

“The only way out is through,” Pike says with an intense look, the same look that had dared Kirk to do better than his father back in an Iowan bar. Kirk should have known that Pike would see right through him.

“Uh thank you for that Robert Frost. Got any more vague poetical philosophy to bestow on me?” He regrets it the moment it’s out. Jim isn’t sure what’s wrong with him this evening, but he should just shut his goddamned mouth before he says something that can’t be forgiven.

“Jim –“

“I’m sorry, Admiral. That wasn’t called for.”

“It isn’t my business but if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know where I am.”

“Thank you, Chris. I haven’t even talked to Spock about it yet, so… no offence, but don’t hold your breath.” Kirk gives Pike a crooked grin.

“Okay, son. Good luck with the negotiations.”

“Yeah, gonna need it.” Kirk cuts the connection and Pike’s face disappears. Jim lets out a loud, exasperated sigh. It is dramatic and he feels a bit ridiculous for having uttered it, but the exhalation helps him to shake off some of his tension.

Kirk shucks off his dusty uniform and replaces it with an old t-shirt and shorts before crawling into his bunk. He hopes the stress of his day will knock him out sooner rather than later so he doesn’t have to think too much, but it’s hard. How can he _not_ notice the sudden emptiness of his bed, the lack of a very warm body next to his? Kirk shivers and piles the blankets over his head, wriggling and trying to reproduce the intense warmth he’s become so accustomed to. It doesn’t work so well, but hell, it’s not like he has any other options.

 _A face on the pillow next to him, deep in sleep and a warm breath across his face. Comfort. Home._

“Lights to zero percent.”

 

 

Kirk keeps his promise and presents himself to the medical bay before Alpha shift at oh-seven thirty hours. McCoy has an altogether frightening gleam in his eyes as he marches over to Kirk and jabs him with a hypospray.

“Jesus!” Kirk cries, rubbing a hand against the sting in his neck. “Warn a person, would you?”

“That was for refusing to stay here last night,” the doctor grumbles, bringing out another hypo. Jim eyes it with trepidation.

“A romantic tryst in the dark? Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Shut up and take off your shirt.”

“Aw, Bones, you smooth talker. You only want me for my hot – _ow_! Dammit, only you can make a hypo hurt.”

“Well you’re just a big baby with a crappy immune system.” Bones turns to pick up a tricorder and run it across Jim’s torso, glowering at the readings. “Besides, I quite like my head where it is, thank you very much. I’m not messing with the boyfriend of any hobgoblin.”

“Uh, boyfriend?” Jim feels his face begin to heat. Shit. He hasn’t even begun to consider the repercussions the repeal will have on his crew. He’s been too wrapped up in his own personal worries and anxiety to move beyond the immediate effect on him and his First Officer.

“Husband, partner, bondmate…” Bones is saying while tapping a few medical notes into a PADD. “Whatever you and Spock have decided to call your relationship.”

“Complicated,” Jim supplies with a frown.

“If there’s trouble in paradise, I sure as hell don’t want to hear about it. Your sex life is strictly off bounds. Forever.”

This is hardly new. McCoy doesn’t like dealing with the private, sexual relations of the crew at the best of times, always insisting that he isn’t a family planning clinic and there is no reason that he should be thought of as the _Enterprise_ ’s chief condom supplier. But he is, really. When the Sacred Band became Starfleet policy Bones had sympathised with Jim, albeit in his typical gruff way that sometimes made it hard for the recipient to see _any_ empathy whatsoever. The day Jim had come to him and said that he needed some personal advice on Vulcan biology, Bones had actually started hyperventilating. Jim thinks that’s the day it became real for Bones… it was also the day that Bones stopped talking badly of the Sacred Band, at least in Jim’s ear shot. They never spoke about ‘Vulcan biology’ again, but whenever Jim found himself in sickbay, Bones would give him a long suffering look… and a box of condoms.

Jim sighs. He doesn’t mean for Bones to hear, but the doctor must have because he looks at him sharply, eyes shrewd and searching. Before McCoy can say anything, Kirk pre-empts him by jumping off the biobed and fumbling with his shirt.

“It’s nothing!” he says, not looking at Bones, but taking far too long figuring out how to turn his shirt right side out.

“Jim? You know how much I enjoy talking about you and the Commander’s personal lives… but if you need to –“

“Honestly, it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“What in God’s name am I _not_ supposed to worry about?”

“You’ll hear soon. Spock and I will probably make an announcement within the next twenty-four hours or so.”

McCoy’s eyebrow knit together furiously. “If you got that green-blooded elf pregnant, so help me I will –“

Kirk laughs and makes a placating gesture. “Nothing like that. I promise. Are you finished with me? I need to get to the bridge and relieve Lieutenant Hoy.”

“Not so fast, sonny boy. I want you to stay put for a moment and listen to me.”

“I always listen to you, Bones.”

“Like hell you do. Now shut up. As your physician, I would like you to know that you are not indestructible; in fact, the list of things that can kill _you_ is as long as my arm. When I tell you to come to medical, I damn well _mean_ come to medical. I need to make sure your body isn’t giving out on you in some implausible way that somehow is very plausible when it comes to the genetic makeup of James T. Kirk.”

“Phaser fire is hardly the same thing as… I dunno, those alien spores that got into my nervous system that time.”

“I do not care,” McCoy bellows each word like they’re different sentences. There is a vein throbbing in his neck and Kirk decides he can’t deal with his CMO having a coronary thrombosis in front of his eyes, so he nods meekly.

“Dammit, Jim,” the doctor says with a scowl. “Just get out of my sickbay. You’re cluttering up the place.”

Kirk beats a hasty retreat.

As he makes his way to the nearest turbolift he finds himself contemplating the task of telling the _Enterprise_ crew. He honestly isn’t sure how they’ll take the sudden turn of events. Perversely, it feels like he’d be announcing the break-up of a tight-knit family unit. He laughs humourlessly to himself. Or… like announcing a divorce.

When the Sacred Band was passed, there’d been a lot of curious glances and worried frowns from the entire _Enterprise_ crew. They’d had no idea what to expect, distrusting the unknown. However, after the initial shock everyone had played along rather nicely to the idea that their Captain and First Officer were in an intimate relationship. Kirk and Spock had made it clear that the ‘union’ might be unorthodox but it was for the betterment of Starfleet. They too had had to believe it would work, for the sake of everyone under their protection. It wouldn’t have been good for the crew to see their superior officers flouting ‘fleet regulations and throwing temper tantrums… no matter how much Kirk had wanted to do just that at the beginning. Funnily enough, it had been Spock who’d provided the most support and guidance.

“Do not worry yourself, Captain,” he’d said one evening in Jim’s quarters as they’d played an awkward and mostly silent game of chess.

“Who said I was worried?”

“I see it in the way you hold yourself, when you think no one else is watching. Your movements and disposition are irregular. You are clearly agitated,” Spock had said. “We cannot change what has happened but must move forward. We are bound together in this.”

“Sorry, Spock. I know my reaction to the policy has been pretty forceful the past few weeks. It… you know it isn’t a slight on you in any way, right?”

“A slight? Are you perhaps suggesting that I might be offended by your protest? That I might consider your vocal opposition to the Sacred Band as having less to do with our right to choose whom we wish to be intimate with, and more to do with your lack of interest in me as a sexual partner?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Then let me assure you, I think no such thing Captain.” Spock had moved his bishop to capture a rook and Kirk had laughed, cursing mildly; he hadn’t been on form. The heavy atmosphere had been broken. Their relationship had changed, morphed into something entirely new. Jim had suddenly learned how to be comfortable in Spock’s company. It had been a revelation.

“You know, in the privacy of our quarters you can call me Jim. I’d prefer it. I mean, we’re practically married.”

“As you wish, Jim.” Spock had glanced at the chess board and said, with the barest hint of amusement, “Checkmate.”

 

 

The next couple of days are tedious and surprisingly exhausting despite their banality – it’s a different kind of tired to that of a hard day at the gym or a strenuous away mission, it makes Jim’s head feel like it’s filled with cotton balls. He gets the impression that he’s spending his days twiddling his thumbs and doing nothing; well not _nothing_ exactly but considering his first day on the job involved severe allergic reactions, a stint on Delta Vega in which he was nearly eaten, strangulation from an livid Vulcan, helping save planet Earth and discussing alternate realities, this is a bit lacklustre by comparison.

It gave the _Enterprise_ crew time to do some house-keeping. Scotty hasn’t appeared in the mess for almost 24 hours, preferring to spend every moment of his time crawling around the maze of pipes in the engine room and whispering sweet nothings to his one and only love. If interrupted and asked what he’s doing, Scotty’s answer is usually a deluge of swearing and wrench waving. People stop asking.

Sulu and Chekov run a trans-osmotic scan on the driver coil in the impulse drive to make sure that the _Enterprise_ ’s propulsion system is in top form, and… to give them something to do. Before the project, Chekov, in particular, had been looking forlorn with nothing to occupy his precocious intelligence – the kid really had the most appalling ability to guilt people into action. Kirk couldn't stand to look at him for much longer. Kirk's happy that they’re occupying themselves productively and with a whole lot more enjoyment than he’s getting.

Uhura spends her time with maintenance insisting they fix a non-existent glitch with the universal translator. Apparently the possessive pronouns in the Ubarian language aren’t enunciated right… or something. Kirk lost interest after twenty minutes of the subject over breakfast. The maintenance crew have been giving him looks of despair, as though hoping Kirk will step in on their behalf and put an end to the madness. He can only shrug and sympathise; Uhura is a force of nature. Jim doesn’t fuck with tornadoes.

As for Spock, well, Jim might not be avoiding his XO exactly, but they haven’t yet had that all important talk. The Commander spends a great deal of time tending to the lab, holed up with his experiments. He hasn’t broached the topic at all and his acquiescence to Jim’s plea to wait is starting to make Jim feel like a bit of heel. So he comes to the decision to bite the bullet. He’s never been a coward and he sure as hell isn’t starting now.

Spock’s quarters are dark and it takes a minute for Jim to spot the Commander kneeling on a mat in the corner. Incense is burning; it’s an almost cloying scent of smoky spice and it catches at the back of Jim’s throat, making it itch. Spock is meditating. At Jim’s unannounced arrival in the doorway to their shared facilities, Spock opens his eyes and tilts his head questioningly.

“Captain?”

“Hey, Spock,” Jim says with a sheepish smile. “Sorry for barging in on you. I wasn’t thinking. I’ve gotten used to coming in here without permission.” He lifts a shoulder in apology.

“You are always welcome,” Spock says evenly. “I will not revoke the promise I made you of unfettered access to my quarters.”

“Thanks. And ditto. You free to have that talk now?”

“Of course. I presume this is ‘later’ enough for you?”

Kirk thinks there might be some sarcasm in there if he looks hard enough, but decides to let it slide. “As good a time as any, I suppose.” He shrugs and ambles over to where Spock is still kneeling and settles himself cross-legged on the deck before him. Spock arches a brow but unfolds his long legs and settles into a more comfortable position for their discussion, knees almost touching Jim’s.

“I think I should start by apologising.” Kirk rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to shut you out – I know the repeal will affect the both of us and any decisions made should be made together. But I needed some time. I was pretty mad and wouldn’t have been level headed enough to do this right.”

“I understand,” Spock replies. There is a short pause before he offers, “I found I was not completely unaffected by the news.”

Jim searches Spock’s face at those words, taking in the set line of his First Officer’s mouth, the smooth planes of his cheeks and the sever point of his eyebrows; exotic but, even after such a short time in command together, comfortingly familiar. It always surprises Jim when Spock makes one of these personal confessions, allowing Jim a glimpse into his complex personality. Jim shivers, even in the dry heat of the room letting his eyes roam around Spock’s quarters restlessly.

“What they did to us… to all the ‘fleet Captains and XOs was humiliating. Harmful. Did you hear what happened with the command team on the USS _Astra_?”

“You know I have. It was most unfortunate.”

“It was more than unfortunate, Spock. It was cruel. Forcing Captain Goodwin and Commander Bäcker, a command duo that had never previously worked together, both of whom lost a spouse in the Battle of Vulcan, to form a sexual relationship? It still leaves me speechless. Their court-marshal was a farce and I’ve honestly never been more ashamed to be part of Starfleet as I was the day their verdict came through.”

Jim stops his impassioned speech abruptly and he can feel his cheeks glow with the heat of his anger. He looks down to inspect his hands, flexing them a little to relieve the tension. This is an old bone for Kirk but Spock knows it and simply sits there, watching as Jim flips his lid once again. It’s surprisingly effective how quickly Jim burns out when faced with such steadfastness. There is logic in Spock’s silence, just as there is logic when he speaks.

“I feel like I should, I dunno, send a strongly worded communication to Starfleet expressing my disapproval. Just to do _something_.” Jim says tiredly.

“A communication to Starfleet would solve nothing in the long term; it would merely be an outlet for your short term frustrations. I caution against it.”

“No, I know it wouldn’t be any use.” He glances back at Spock who is watching him steadily, face calm and impassive. “Anyway, I’m tired of being angry.”

They’re silent for a time. Kirk watches the incense stick burn out.

“So. How’re we going to do this, Spock?”

“We will have to inform the crew that the Sacred Band policy has been revoked. It is better coming from us than an external source. Expedience is key, Captain.”

“Agreed. I’ve wasted enough time with my illogical human need for sulking.” Kirk smiles self-deprecatingly. “We’ll tell the department heads and the bridge crew first. Tomorrow before Alpha shift – we’ll send out a comm to let everyone know of the briefing.” He pauses. “Bet you five credits Bones’ face turns purple.”

“I do not make wagers on events that are physically impossible,” Spock says archly.

“What? You don’t think he’ll get mad?”

“Most definitely. Dr McCoy is not known for a having a mild disposition. However, I fail to see how it is possible for him to physically ‘turn purple’ no matter how angry he is. I should imagine a shade of pink or perhaps red would be more likely given the properties of human blood.”

“You say tomato, I say tom-ah-to…” Jim immediately waves away the look on Spock’s face. “Just an expression.”

“On a more serious note Captain, we must impress upon the crew that the changes in policy have no affect on them personally, and nor will we allow it to impede our ability to command the _Enterprise_.”

“Goes without saying.”

Spock gives him a pointed look. “I have found that humans need the occasional firm reassurance of the facts.”

Jim snorts. “Yeah, we’re a difficult bunch.”

“Your words, Captain.” Spock manages to arch a single eyebrow in such a sardonic manner that Kirk can’t help but throw his head back and laugh. It had been the most surprising thing in the world for Jim to discover that Spock had a sense of humour. It never gets old.

“Good. That’s good,” Kirk says when he stops chuckling. “I mean, superficially it might look like a huge change but it doesn’t have to be anything more than that – superficial. Nothing will stop us from remaining a cohesive command unit, Sacred Band or no Sacred Band.” He pauses with a frown. “We were lucky, though.”

“Lucky?”

“We could have ended up like Goodwin and Bäcker. We could have hated each other and taken the _Enterprise_ down with us. I mean, our initial distrust was severe enough that it could easily have been blown out of all proportion and we could have –“

“Yet we did not.” It is unusual for Spock to interrupt but Jim knows why he did. He nods grimly.

“That which does not kill us, makes us stronger, eh? And now they’ve terminated it…”

“Perhaps it would be expedient if we pre-recorded a communication for the crew explaining the situation,” Spock says, directing the conversation away from further discussion of Starfleet. Jim agrees to the suggestion.

“Let’s hop to it, then,” he says, reaching out and placing a hand on Spock’s knee, using it to steady his rise off the deck. Spock’s body goes rigid, eye wide and unblinking. Seeing such clear discomfort isn’t pleasant but Jim doesn’t feel gracious enough to apologise, not when he’s touched Spock so much more intimately, when Spock has reciprocated.

 _A thousands and one Vulcan kisses – pressed to his hip, tripping up his spine, stroking his lips, twining fingers with fingers. A thousand and one reasons to kiss back._

Jim turns his back on Spock and the memories, sitting himself at the desk.

The lights have been increased to 75 percent and the recording device is ready, blinking a green light at Kirk before he senses Spock’s presence at his back. He feels the tension leave his shoulders, feels his arms swing loose and his breathing settle to a steady rhythm. It seems unfair that one person can hold so much control over him.

They spend the rest of the evening recording an appropriate message. It takes longer than it should because Spock has to keep interrupting and politely curtail Jim’s furious tangents. He hadn’t been lying to Spock earlier; Jim is tired of being angry but can’t seem to kick himself out of the vicious circle. One stray thought and _BAM_ he’s seeing red. But in time the message is recorded properly, with both men getting the chance to speak and show their composure before the crew. If Jim didn’t know how much it cost him to look that level-headed and in control, he’d be tempted to believe that good-looking, confident son of a gun and his pointy-eared friend.

Damn he could do with some serious shut-eye.

“Well, that’s a wrap.” He gets up and stretches his arms above his head, groaning. “Send a message to the department heads and the bridge crew about the meeting before Alpha, would you? I’ll see you in the A.M.”

“Of course. Good night, Captain.”

Jim’s actually leaning towards Spock, getting ready to _kiss_ him, not with tongues or anything, nothing dirty, just a warm press of lips on lips like what he’s been doing for the past few months. It takes him a full second before he aborts the action. He rubs the balls of his hands into his eyes.

“Uh, Spock?”

“Yes?”

“Seriously, you don’t have to go back to calling me Captain. Not when we’re alone. The repeal shouldn’t stop us from remaining friends.”

“Then we are still friends?”

Jim can admit that the question hurts. Like a bitch.

“Of course,” he says. Pauses to catch his breath, saying, “Have been and always will be.”

 

 

To say the crew take the news of the repeal badly might be understating it a little. Bones _does_ turn purple, and Kirk feels vindicated enough to entertain the idea of turning to Spock and pointing to the evidence. Childishly, he wants to see what the Commander would do if Jim stuck out his tongue. Chekov looks crestfallen but does as ordered and sends the pre-recorded communication ship-wide. Uhura says nothing during the briefing, but asks for a personal moment with Spock once they’re dismissed. Spock agrees.

 _So it begins,_ Jim thinks grimly.

Kirk is used to getting sidelong glances he downright revelled in those looks in his academy days, but these are different. They gleam with pity and it’s starting to get on Jim’s nerves. He ignores them as best he can, keeping an easy smile on his face, but there’s only so much pretending one man can do. Halfway through Beta Shift his face feels numb from all the manic grinning. He decides what he needs, what will make life all that more bearable, is a BLT – emphasis on the B.

The officer’s mess is deserted but for one chair. Uhura sits at the far end of the table, head down and engrossed in the objects in front of her. As Kirk moves closer he can see a vast array of tools and computer components spread out across the tabletop. Uhura has a pair of wire-cutters in one hand and in the other she’s holding a twist of what looks like fifty different wires in rainbow colours. She snips at a dark blue one before looking up at Kirk.

“Captain.”

“Dare I ask?” Kirk slips into the seat opposite and picks up one of the disassembled platters and inspects it with mild interest, careful to keep his fingerprints off the silver shine of the disk. Uhura licks her bottom lip and looks back at the blue wire, pushing aside the protective casing to reveal the fine fibre inside.

“Lieutenant Santana said he didn’t have time to fix the UT so I’m doing it.” She doesn’t look particularly impressed and Jim can only imagine the argument that must have ensued between his head of Maintenance and head of Communications. He suppresses a sigh. Jim knows he’ll have to do some serious damage control later.

“Possessive pronouns, right?” he prods.

“Yes.” She picks up a yellow wire and makes another snip. “There’s a big difference in how possessive pronouns are used in Standard to that of any of the Ubarian dialects. It’s circular, all-inclusive. They don’t really talk about individual ownership they way we might. Their syntax is almost… tautological.”

“They must annoy the piss out of the Vulcans,” Jim says dryly. There’s something that sounds almost like a snort of laughter from Uhura before she continues.

“I noticed something was off in the translations while on planet but it wasn’t until Ensign Desmarais came to me several days ago and highlighted the same issue that I was able, with her help, to extrapolate the problem. Ensign Desmarais is part Ubarian and she speaks the language better than I do. We’ve been working to fix the inconsistency in the UT.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to reprogram the source code?” Jim puts down the platter and picks up the controller panel, its tiny parts creating a maze that looks just as much like a piece of art as it does a piece of tech.

“Tried, but the current coding can’t be used because there’s no language quite like Ubarian. There was nothing I could parse together; it would be like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Some idiot at Starfleet who’s never heard the Ubarian language outside of a textbook decided to fuck up and now I have to do this manually, re-write and re-wire the UT programming.” She waves at a stack of PADDs to Jim’s right. “Agnès – Ensign Desmarais – has been a god-send. Her ear is exquisite and she’s practically re-written the coding for Ubarian possessive pronouns by herself.”

Jim picks up the top PADD and scans it. The coding is clever and detailed; a fine piece of work. Kirk has a moment of pride at the skill and industriousness of his crew. They are more than he could ever have hoped for.

“I’ll have to thank her personally,” he says with smile. Uhura nods.

“She’s exhausted. I sent her away about an hour ago, otherwise I think she might have stayed here all night.”

They sit in heavy silence for while. Kirk watches Uhura cross two wires together and begin to solder them together on the controller panel. A mild smell of burning metal reaches his nose. Uhura’s hands are steady but her face looks drawn and worn. He wonders when she last slept.

“You should take your own advice, Uhura,” Jim says quietly. She doesn’t look up. “ _Lieutenant_. It’s been a long day.”

“It has.” She’s still not looking at him and Jim decides to deal with this head-on. Things need to be said so they can put this tension to rest. He can’t afford for his head of Communications to be this reticent with him, or he with her. It isn’t healthy.

“I know things have been difficult for you since the Sacred Band,” he begins seriously. “More than most of the crew.”

“Kirk, I –“

“Just let me finish. Please?” A slight nod. “I was hardly his first choice, hell, I wasn’t his choice at all. You were. Are. I wanted to let you know that I did, and do, care. About him. I’m sure you know he takes some getting used to but when you can see behind his façade he’s… The struggle trying to figure him out, it’s all worth it. What I’m trying to say is that you both deserve to put this whole debacle behind you. I want to wish both of you the best because I care a lot for the both of you. I want us to be friends again.” Jim stands abruptly, not waiting for Uhura to say anything and gives her his fake blinding smile – the last of the day. Then he leaves the officer’s mess without looking back.

He’s almost to his quarters before he realises that he never got that BLT. Doesn’t matter, he thinks. His appetite is gone.

Another 24 hours pass. Jim has had a long video conference with Starfleet, Pike and the medical officers on Hexon-Ubar. The negotiations on behalf of the _Enterprise_ are running smoothly but slowly, painfully so. Commander Singh, CMO of the Ubarian relief work, is having the most positive reactions from his discussion with the locals. They trust him more than they do the Starfleet bigwigs, which doesn’t surprise Kirk in the slightest. The Commander suggests that Jim keep away for a while as his presence would only serve as an embarrassing reminder of the previous failed talks. Jim understands this, though it means more sitting around.

After his shift, he spends his time combing through a stack of PADDs and signing off on dry report after dry report. It’s making his eyes cross. As he picks up another PADD ready to settle into a long analysis from Scotty regarding the cooling ducts in the engine room, he suddenly realises he’s not alone.

“Spock?” The Vulcan moves into the room without saying anything, shoulders looking usually tense. “Is something wrong?” Kirk’s heart is beating a little quicker as worry starts to pump through him. Still Spock says nothing. Jim stands and walks over to his XO.

“Spock?” He asks again, reaching out a hand to lay it on Spock’s forearm. Spock looks down at the hand for a moment before his body moves in a sudden, fluid burst of energy. The Vulcan strength pushes Kirk, walking him backwards until his legs buckle against the edge of his bed and he lands with a bump. Jim barely has a chance to catch his breath before Spock’s warm body is covering his.

“W – what?” He stammers, feeling the heat of Spock’s breath against his neck, where uniform meets skin. It’s teasing and Kirk wants to lean into the touch but he’s disoriented and isn’t entirely sure what the fuck is going on. “Are you –“

“Do not talk, Jim.” Spock begins to move carefully, almost languid, as he slips his hands up Kirk’s shirt, snaking over skin. His knee parts Jim’s legs, fitting them even closer together. The heat and the weight the body above his, not to mention the distracting pressure Spock’s thigh pressed tight against his crotch, is making Kirk pant. This is all so familiar but different somehow. They shouldn’t be doing this.

Jim wants to give in, he really does. His answer to Spock’s unasked question is _yes, a hundred times yes_. But he doesn’t say it.

“Spock,” he breathes into a pointed ear, tempted to lick the curve and see it flush green. He closes his eyes. ”What are you doing?”

“I believe humans like to call this part of the sexual act ‘foreplay’,” Spock says, voice close and intimate.

“Well, yes, I can um…” fingers pinch at Kirk’s left nipple making his voice hitch, “feel that. I meant why?”

“Because after foreplay comes sexual intercourse.”

“You’re avoiding my question,” Jim observes. “I’d almost call you obtuse.” He begins to push at Spock, removing the questing fingers and shifting so that they’re no longer pressed together like jigsaw pieces.

And don’t we make one fucking confusing puzzle, Kirk thinks.

“Jim?”

“Why are you here? Why do want to have _sexual intercourse_ with me?” Kirk looks into Spock’s eyes, trying to find the answers in a blank wall. “I mean, you know you don’t have to do this with me? Not anymore. It’s over.” He’s trying to be gentle, to let Spock know that it’s finally OK for him to be with Uhura if he wants and not have Jim or Starfleet policy holding him to something against his will.

The heat from Spock’s close proximity is gone in a moment and Kirk shivers at the loss. Spock isn’t looking at him as he stands by the door, arms folded tightly behind his back.

“I apologise,” he says.

“Honestly, it’s –“

“I will not disturb you again, Captain.” The title again. It hurts a little. He wants to say something but then Spock is gone leaving Jim to a silent room and an empty bed.

 

 

“Captain, I need to speak with you,” Uhura’s voice brooks no argument as she stands before Kirk giving him her patented death glare. He doesn’t know what he’s done, but it must be pretty bad for Uhura to be this worked up. She’s positively livid. He glances around the bridge but, as per usual these days, nothing of note is happening. Jim supposes he can give Uhura ten minutes to verbally abuse him.

“Commander Spock, you have the conn,” he says. Spock doesn’t look at him but accepts the order with a sharp nod of the head and a clipped ‘understood’.

Jim leads a tense Uhura into his ready room. The door has barely slid shut before Uhura wheels on him, fists clenched.

“You absolute jackass!”

“I – What?”

“Are you blind, or do like being this stupid?”

“I’m not sure what I’ve done, but I _am_ sure I’m still your superior officer. Care to lighten up on the name-calling?” Uhura’s nostrils flair dangerously as she makes a visible effort not spit out any more vitriol. “What’s this all about Uhura?”

“This is about you and Spock,” she says. Kirk can feel his eyebrows shoot up. “I… love Spock very much.”

“I know that, honestly –“

“Shut up and listen!” Kirk narrows his eyes. “Sir.”

“Fine. Shoot.”

“I love Spock. You love Spock and – no don’t give me that face. I know you do, I can speak twelve different kinds of sign-language plus I can read body-language and you’re always talking with your body, Kirk. You love him; I can see it plain as day, so don’t look so surprised. It’s almost insulting. And Spock loves you – is _in_ love with you.”

“ _Me_? You’re not – yeah, OK. Shutting up.”

“I know he does because he told me. When you announced the repeal I talked to him privately, asked him what this meant for us. I had hoped – but Spock said… Well, he said a lot of things. He thought it would be unfair on the both of us to continue our previous romantic relationship, not when he cared for someone else. Of course I knew he meant you. I asked him if he loved you, _really_ loved you. The look on his face, it – we all know that Vulcan’s don’t express their emotions like humans, but in that one moment I swear to God I could see the half of him that was human. He said he cared more for you than he could quite understand. You… throw off his equilibrium, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Now, I’m not a martyr and if I could, I’d take Spock back so fast your head would literally spin off your neck. I’m not here to be benevolent and give you my blessing; I’m not good enough or strong enough for that. I just thought you should know that you’re being a grade-A jackass. You’re making everything more complicated than it needs to be, Kirk. He’s standing right there in front of you, offering you something amazing. Don’t you dare throw him away, not when he won’t even let me pick up the pieces.”

The silence rings with the absence of her words.

“I wasn’t throwing him away,” Kirk whispers, serious. “I thought I was freeing him.”

“He’s happy with you Kirk, damned if I know why. Can’t you see that?”

“I thought… I mean the policy, it just...”

“Spock’s loyal and honourable. He followed the policy because it was his job, but he didn’t fall in love with you out of some overactive sense of duty. He fell in love because he is sentient being with the ability to think for himself, feel whatever he wants for whomever he wants. And that seems to be you.”

This is worse than getting punched by an angry Romulan. Jim can’t order his thoughts properly, there’s too much to process in such a short space of time. His brain is stuck on one word: _love, love, love, love_. To his utter surprise, Uhura moves forward and winds her arms around him, hugging him close and tight. She’s never done this before but it feels good and so Jim holds her back. They cling in silence. Jim concentrates on breathing.

“Make it right, Captain,” Uhura whispers into his ear, before pulling away.

“Uhura – you’ll find someone –“

“I will _end_ you if you finish that sentence,” Uhura practically growls. Jim shuts up because damned if he doesn’t believe her. “But yes, I’m not a romantic fool, I know I’ll find someone someday that I’ll love and who will love me right back.”

Uhura saunters over to the door of the ready room, hips swaying sensually; Kirk can’t help but watch in appreciation. Before she leaves, Uhura turns to give Kirk a defiant, slightly sarcastic look over her shoulder.

“Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

 

 

There’s no chance to talk with Spock about what Uhura told him, not right away. As much as Jim would really love to drag Spock back to his quarters for a heart-to-heart and a sex marathon, his job gets in the way.

A communication comes in from Commander Singh saying that the Ubarians are ready for negotiations, but first their Prime Leader and Comptroller would like a private conference call with Captain Kirk. The call is patched through to Kirk’s ready room. The two Ubarians appear calm, which is a good sign. Jim smiles (more polite than friendly) and gives them a shallow nod of his head.

“You wished to speak with me, Madam Leader, Sir Comptroller?”

“Yes, Captain Kirk. We wish to convey our sincere apologies,” says the Prime Leader, a petite humanoid with the cat-like split pupils of her species. She looks tired and Kirk finds, to his surprise, that he sympathises. “We hope you and your crew were not injured after our last meeting.”

“Thank you. Rest assured none of us were harmed.” His smile is easier now, genuine.

“That is good news, Captain. We wish to discuss with you…”

And so the video conference continues politely. Jim notices a strange, subtle shift in their dialogue. Instead of sounding pompous by using the royal ‘we’, the leaders speak as though each Ubarian is connected to one another. They are one and the same being, moving together in a society-shaped organism. It is fascinating to realise what he missed when dealing with the Ubarians several days ago. They go from sounding self-centred creatures to possessing the most acute sense of togetherness and community Jim had ever witnessed in a species. Uhura and Ensign Desmarais did a truly amazing job on the UT and Jim can only marvel.

It is agreed that Kirk and a few of his officers will beam down at 10.00 hours the following day to discuss Starfleet’s proposal in more depth.

“We thank you, Captain,” the Prime Leader says humbly. “Your patience is a credit to the Federation.”

Kirk smiles again and thanks them for their cooperation before cutting the communication feed. He leaves his ready room, making his way slowly to his quarters, thinking about his conference call. It looks like everything will be alright at last; there will be no more waiting and no more anxiety. Jim feels a weight lift from his shoulders – he hadn’t realised how much the situation with Hexon-Ubar had been worrying him.

Once in his quarters, Jim sheds his uniform for a pair of sweat pants and an old t-shirt. He grins nervously at his reflection in the bathroom mirror before opening Spock’s door. His First Officer is sitting cross-legged on his bed, back ram-rod straight against a pillow and the headboard. Spock is reading something on a PADD in his lap, face placid. He notices Kirk’s entry immediately. A single eyebrow is raised in question.

“Hey Spock,” Jim says, crossing the room to stand beside Spock’s bunk. “May I?” he nods to the bed.

“Of course,” Spock says, shifting a little to let Jim sit beside him. Kirk settles in close, feeling the warmth of Spock’s side radiating all along his right arm, chest, thigh. It’s the most comfortable he’s felt in a while. Honestly? It’s the most contented he’s felt since the he’d been told about the repeal of the Sacred Band, since he thought he’d lost Spock.

“What ya reading?” he asks, dropping his head back against a pillow.

“I have been examining excerpts from Plato’s _The Symposium_ ,” Spock replies easily.

“So what does Plato have to say for himself?”

“It is generally thought by Terran historians that it was Plato’s _Symposium_ which led to the inspiration behind the Sacred Band of Thebes. For instance, in this passage the character of Phaedrus remarks: _And if there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be made up of lovers and their loves, they would be the very best governors of their own city, abstaining from all dishonour, and emulating one another in honour; and when fighting at each other's side, although a mere handful, they would overcome the world. For what lover would not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved, either when abandoning his post or throwing away his arms? He would be ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who would desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger_?”

Kirk is silent for a moment, listening to their breathing. Then,

“Love is a curious, complicated thing. It makes us do many wonderful things… it can also make us do many terrible things.”

Nero’s name hangs unsaid in the air before them. Spock watches Kirk’s face then glances back down at the PADD in his lap. He looks for something – another quote – before continuing to read.

“ _According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves._ ”

“Very romantic,” Jim says with a smile. “You don’t believe there’s only one, perfect person for everyone, do you? Seems… illogical.”

“It is indeed. The idea that one can find contentment with only a single pre-destined being is a fallacy. There are many variables any one person will undertake in one life-time and to suggest that they will not find happiness without that one person in a galaxy of billions is to condemn them to a life of searching. It is cruel.”

“It does seem cruel, doesn’t it? I like to think that there an infinite number of people that I could love and that could love me back. I want to believe that.”

There is another charged silence, filled only with their steady breaths.

“Jim?”

“Hm?”

“I wish to tell you that despite the repeal, I would not be averse to continuing a… romantic relationship with you. I may have many ‘halves’ but at this moment in time there is only you. I could not entertain the possibility of wanting or needing anyone else. In this reality, in this time-stream of my life, you are that other half of me.” Spock lifts a steady hand to cup Jim’s face, thumb brushing a path across his cheek.

“Don’t look now Mr Spock, but I believe you’re sweeping me off my feet.” Jim leans in and gives Spock a lingering kiss on the lips. “I think it would be illogical of me to let either of us continue in this half-being state, not when we could be whole. Don’t you think?”

There is a light in Spock’s eyes as he says, “your logic is sound.”

Jim smiles.


End file.
